I called that agency. I got a Vanessa Howle, who was in desperate need of a receptionist, as she kept interrupting our conversation constantly. She seemed fixated on “Kringle” and was dismissive of the idea of a “production guy” showing it around. Said I still need an agent (duh). I never got to ask if she wanted me or the script, but she wanted to know who saw the script, wants me to “reformat” it, and maybe rework it a bit. So I put her on hold (metaphorically) for the moment.
A few days later I note a rejection on “Wedding in Wisconsin” from the agent Robbins. My writing is fine, as always. Just my scripts “stink” (my word, not his). He wasn’t engaged by the situation. He thought “pink tuxedos were cliché.” All in all, he doesn’t want to represent it. The “Where’s the Party” party was still ahead of us. I note some work matters (the dwindling Christmas bonus). I wouldn’t bother updating anything until the end of the month.
New material I wrote for Style Without Substance was going up that night, the group had been booked for a big New Year’s Eve festival Montclair NJ, where venues throughout the village was hosting music and shows to mark the New Year. In 1993, I'd be part of the group that would begin work on the Writers Guild award show. Work sucked, but home and hearth were fine, so my hopes were up.